" "As you will," said Jonathan, seating himself. "Oh, God! that I might die too," cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her. The infant was rescued from a watery-grave by an honest mechanic, who has since brought him up as his own son. Why, honestly enouch. "Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. He made a movement toward her, and then recalled the circumstances of their last conversation in that study. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. She has been a dear. My name is Wild— Jonathan Wild. If you had arrived ten minutes later, or if there hadn't been an iron bar in the chimney, that hindered my progress, I should have been beyond your reach.
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